Scenery

Chronique

Emily King's obstinate fortitude merits almost as much high regard as the music she makes with recording partner Jeremy Most. Signed to a major label in 2004, she didn't release her impressive if artistically restrictive debut album until three years later, and within a year of that was dropped despite being nominated for a Grammy. Only an EP and one additional LP followed through 2017, the year King struck a deal with the Universal-distributed ATO, a haven for other classification-defying singer/songwriters. Scenery was made in a studio King and Most built in the garage of their new place in the Catskills, a couple hours north of King's native New York City. It refines the seemingly instinctive and contemporary hybrid sound of 2015's The Switch with more mature pop informed by traditional singer/songwriters, classic R&B into the post-disco era, the high-tech end of mid-'80s Top 40 radio, and even a little gospel. All elements are recombined while being neither overtly retro nor wholly allegiant to anything other than durable songcraft (with the occasional sonic flourish). King's voice remains assured and soft, like she's confidently revealing secrets in the most expressive way possible, without disturbing her neighbors. This time, there's a little more grit and swagger, and frequently there's a sense of resolve that comes through even when not indicated lyrically. Much of the album regards an ex and a new mate. The springy "Can't Hold Me" addresses both while delivering a knockout blow to the former -- "Thought you were my only love, but I found someone with the perfect touch" -- yet it's ultimately about self-reliance. "Look at Me Now" contains a series of flip, elegantly delivered taunts like "Did you keep all the records? Do they sound good without me?," mixing joy and spite reinforced with lively xylophone and lancing Brian May-style guitar. She's similarly facetious in the gradually swelling "Forgiveness," sorry-not-sorry for the untimely texts and incidental physical contact. There's true remorse beneath the surface of the next song, "Running," which is actually kind of floating as she yearns to forgive and accept herself. By "2nd Guess," she's free, lost in a sudden romantic diversion, attesting before sheets of noise evoking blinding sunlight that "Life is always sweeter when there's no regrets."
© Andy Kellman /TiVo